


Fraser

by i_am_op



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Love Triangles, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 07:05:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10826250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_op/pseuds/i_am_op
Summary: "Who was that?" Keith questions, his eyes flickering towards the direction of Shiro.Lance doesn't skip a beat as he follows Keith's eyes. "You mean Shiro?""He's fucking perfect," Keith bluntly states.(In which Lance likes Keith, but Keith likes Shiro and Shiro likes Lance.)





	1. Chapter 1

How deep in shit was Lance at this moment?

Apparently, very fucking deep. He was arranged a not-date with his crush of five years. This had to be the saddest things that's ever happen to anyone. His life wss the very epitome of all things wrapped in wretched garbage.

He's disappointed in himself.

One, for liking a guy who can't pick up signs of flirting for his life and two; for being in love with this god damn idiot for five years, the very same idiot who mistook a literal love letter and a box of chocolate on Valentine's day as some sort of deep spiritual friendship thing.

He said," I love you" how many fucking times in the letter? Honestly, you'd have to be the densest motherfucker to not notice. 

Lance sighed miserably and proped his elbows onto the coffee table, not even bothering to be careful to not knock the cups of coffee over, and gave a long suffering sigh.

He waited for Keith to come along. He's two minutes late and it's not usually like Keith.

Thoughts flickered all over his mind. _What if Keith got into an accident? What if he's kidnapped?_

It was a stretch of an imagination and a tad bit dramatic, but it's Keith. Lance can never _not_ worry for the stupid mullet head.

"Lance?" A voice asked, quickly surprising him out of his frenzied stupor.

He whipped his head around to meet the owner of the voice. Shiro. One of the baristas that worked in this shop. They had bonded over bad jokes and became friends.

Lance was very fond of Shiro and was quite glad he hadn't butchered their relationship yet. 

"Hey Shiro. What's up?" Lance asked, giving him a half-smile, that probably looked insincere, what with his nerves all over the place. He was impatient for Keith to come, worried because Keith was usually never this late.

Shiro smiled back, looking like one of the male models on the cover of a magazine or something akin to that. He's an attractive face, way out of Lance's leauge. Someone Lance would've pined after, if not for Keith being... well Keith and whisking Lance off his feet.

Honestly, Keith had no charms, none whatsoever. He was a horrible flirt, he couldn't pick up signs, and he was in no way, a romatic that Lance was. 

It was almost comical with how smitten Lance was with Keith.

"On my lunch break at the moment. Haven't seen you frequent the cafe often, something wrong?" Shiro asks, raising his brows as he looka at Lance expectantly. In a teasing voice, he adds," Or is this your subtle way of telling me you don't want to be friends with me anymore?"

Lance flushes, clearly embarrassed. Guilt flooded him as he tried to explain. "Shit, sorry Shiro. Not that I've been ignoring you on purpose or anything, it's just I've been busy and--" He goes in a frenzy of nerves and jumbled of words as he attempted to stich a coherent excuse for his absence.

Shiro laughs and interrupt him, mid-ramble. "Relax, Lance. I'm teasing. It's fine. Just take care of yourself."

"Right. Definitely," Lance stammers out, coughing to hide his increasingly red flush. 

It was this moment that Keith thought it was convenient to enter and walk towards Lance's general direction.

When he was aware of his presence, Lance turned his head, Shiro following after.

"Keith!" Lance shouts. 

In response, Keith raises his eyes, but as usual, gave him a fond smile and a brief wave. His eyes traveled to Shiro and his smile dropped and he got wide-eyed.

If Shiro noticed any of this strange behavior from the newcomer, he said nothing.

"My lunch break is probably coming to an end. I'll leave you alone then," Shiro said, misunderstanding the situation as a romatic meet-up (something Lance could only wistfully think about) and gave Keith a dutiful nod.

Inwardly, as sorry as he was, he was grateful that Shiro left. He wanted to treasure any moments they had together, even if they weren't in a relationship. Any time spent with Keith was something he immensly loved.

He walked back to behind the counter and Lance watched as he muttered something inaudible to a girl working behind the counter. What happened next was lost on him because he lost interest after that.

He turned back towards Keith, who seemed distractedly staring at the man who had just left.

"Who was that?" Keith questions, his eyes flickering towards the direction of Shiro and back to Lance from time to time.

Lance doesn't skip a beat as he follows Keith's eyes. "You mean Shiro?"

"He's fucking perfect," Keith bluntly states.

Lance takes a slow swing of his coffe and taps his fingers as a distraction. He attempts a teasing smile on his face, but it feels fake, even to him, but Keith doesn't notice, to caught up on sneaking glances at Shiro in the corner of his eyes, trying to be discreet. 

"Oh, does little Keithy-boy have a little crush?" He teases, ruffling a hair through Keith's (soft) hair, as if he was a five year old.

Keith, in response, blanches. His face turns completely red and he rolls his eyes and focuses his eyes on his lap. "He's just... really good looking. I can appreciate someone's beauty, can't I?"

There's a little hope that clings to Lance that, maybe, Keith really did just admire Shiro's looks and that was the full extent of his feelings. No increasing heartbeats, no heart eyes, just plain admiration. But who is he kidding, honestly?

Without quite looking him in the eye, Lance nudges him. "Oh, boo, you roadkill. I'll give you his digits and maybe you can flirt with him."

 _You stupid complete utter idiot, you fucking moron, what the fuck were you thinking_ , his mind supplied a multititude of insults at himself runs through his mind, he tries to compose himself from the stupid brash action of his.

Keith looks at Lance in disbelief, snorting. "Lance, like I said, he's just really attractive."

His brain keeps telling him to dtop, but his mouth won't obey. "C'mon, you've got a shot, pretty boy."

He expects Keith to roll his eyes and change the topic, but what he didn't expect was Keith to flush a deep red. "You think?"

Lance felt sick. He smiled.

"Yeah, his number is--"

* * *

Shiro hated being rude. It was a principal of moral code that he shouldn't ever be purposefully ill-mannered. 

He often took out a time of his days helping people out as much and as often as he could. Not out of obligation, but because he wanted to. 

But hey, in the end, he's a human being with human traits. He can feel human emotions, even if they were as petty as jealousy. 

And it's not even slight jealousy, but a fuckton of jealousy, that felt like a dam rushing inside him. 

It was about Lance.

Of course it was Lance. It was always about Lance. 

He was being undiplomatic and breaking his moral code for hating this person, the person dubbed as "Keith" by Lance, for being on a date with Lance. He hadn't done anything wrong, but here Shiro was, hating him with every nerve in his cell, just because Lance liked him back.

Technically, there was a possibly it wasn't a date, but not very likely, knowing Shiro's luck.

He took coffee orders and made coffee, sneaking glances at Lance without being as noticeable as he thought he was. 

Lance, with his gosh darn adorable dimples, messy flyaway hair (uncharacteristically messy instead of being perfect combed, but it still seemed like an adorable hair-do on him, and god Shiro was so far gone and out of it for this one boy), cheerful demeanor, and bubbly personality. 

When he initially had met Lance, he just simply thought he was another enthusiastic character that radiated exuberance. No one of much importance, but one he'd occausionally smile to when they made eye contact.

Now, well, Lance is still all of those traits, but Lance had so much more going on for him than just his friendliness. His laugh, his smiles, how he cared for his friends, everything about him was... well, in short, perfect.

When he made eye contact with Lance now, Lance giving him a wave everytime and wuth just that one single motion, he feels like his heart was bursting.

He was enamored. Far-gone. Madly in love. 

He watched, with jealousy overcoming him, the two as they chatted, like lovers. Leaning in very close, gazing at each other's eyes, Lance ruffling his hair. 

He tore his eyes off Lance for a moment to glance at the "Keith", only to notice Keith's gaze focused on him. When he noticed Shiro look at him, he flushed and looked away. 

Shiro looked at the back of Keith's head in confusion. Did Keith not like him?

At first, he suspected it to be a mistake, that their eyes just met without intending to. The second time, when Shiro casually looked at the table, Keith was looking back at him. A coincidence. The third time, not so much.

And then it became four, five, and six.

Shit, was he taunting him or something? Was his crush on Lance obvious?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back to back chapters bby  
> ur welcome

Friday evenings meant that Shiro had to close up.

So, he found himself mopping the floor, chairs upturned on tables in front of him.

Sitting on one of the chairs was Allura, the manager of this café (otherwise known as the Roasted Bean), who had lingered behind.

Initially, Shiro had thought it was to help, but he was surprised when she promptly sat down on one of the chairs left unturned on top of the table, taking sips from her free coffee-- manager privileges --and merely watched as he worked.

To Shiro, Allura was a friend, but sometimes, it was hard to believe that fact. She was a beauty. A orb of turquoise hue, pretty silver locks that fell on her shoulders elegantly, and conventionally pretty features that made head turns.

Even while being laid-back and drinking coffee, she radiated confidence and charisma. She looked like a damn queen. She certainly had the charms for that.

But what good was her charisma and beauty if she was being unhelpful as she idly bid her time?

"Allura? I could do with a little help. Please?" Shiro had asked.

Allura only shrugged in response and simply said," You're being paid for this."

"Yeah, _m_ _inimum wage."_

"Talk to me about your wage when you can actually make coffee without fucking up regular milk with almond milk."

"It was when I was starting out and yet, you still refuse to let it go. Besides, they all look the same," Shiro argued.

Allura didn't even look him in the eye as she placed her elbows on top of the chair as she took a casual sip. "Almond milk is several shades lighter, you filthy animal."

The store had settled into a peaceful silence after the teasing jabs thrown and all that could be heard was the sound of mop against floor and the occasional squeak of Shiro's shoes as he moved around.

Every now and then, Allura took a sip of her coffee, giving him a calculative look, watching his every move.

After trying to ignore the looks thrown at him for a few minutes, he gave up.

Self-consciously, Shiro lifted a hand to his face and gave Allura and questioning gaze at her actions. “What’s wrong? Something on my face?”

Allura snorts in response and rolls her eyes. “It’s not that, it’s just...” She pauses for a moment before letting her bemused expression turn into a full-on grin. “How’s your embarrassing hard-on for Lance?” Allura interrogated, giving him a playful waggle of her brows.

Shiro flushes under her suggestive gaze. "It's not a hard-on, Allura."

"Oh hush. You getting some?”

"Allura!" Shiro cried out, his face turning a beet red against his will. His hand gripping the mop tightly, his knuckles turned white.

"What? It's about high time you confessed to the kid and do some lovers stuff. How long has it been since you've been crushing on him? Like a year?"

How it was possible, only god knew, because Shiro flushed an even _more_ darker red. He mumbled underneath his breath, "A year and nine months, actually."

With her unnatural superhuman abilities, Allura had managed to caught that. She gave him a look of incredulous, the disbelief ringing in her voice. "Well that's certainly not something to brag about. God, you're completely helpless."

"Well, what am I supposed to say? Hey, I've been in love with you for a year and nine months. Would you go out with me?" 

"You're just saying that cause you're being a complete wuss," Allura bluntly said.

Shiro sighed in response at Allura's statement. "It's just-- what if he says no? Our relationship would be strained and awkward. I wouldn't be able to look him in the eye and neither would he." He places the mop gently down, leaning it against the counter. 

"I don't want to ruin that."

Allura groaned. "What's the use of being in love if you're going to keep it bottled up? Don't play it safe, you old geezer, live a little."

"Right."

She groans at him.

Allura gets up from her seat and tosses her empty cup into the garbage can, which laid seven feet across her. "I'm going to leave now. Close up." She fished out the keys from her pockets and threw it to Shiro.

With ease, he managed to catch it with him right hand, accidentally knocking down the broom. He hastily reached to place it back in it's uprught position against the counter. 

"Right," He repeated once more.

But Allura was already out the door. 

He ran a hand through his hair. His life was falling apart piece by piece. His thoughts lingered to Lance. 

Shiro attempted to clear his hand and continue working and keep his hands busy, but as he cleaned up, his thoughts kept tracing back to Lance.

***

Shiro impatiently fumbled for his keys, cursing lightly in mumurs.

His brows furrowed as he searched for his keys. The outside wind was freezing cold and felt like pinpricks against his skin.

Today, his fingers were uncooperative and clumsy and he ended up with slightly stinging fingers that had caught themselves on the zipper to his jacket.

He managed to somehow retrieve his keys and thankfully, unlocked the door and hurried on outside. 

Away from the cold, he promptly plopped onto the sofa. He stayed there for a few minutes before deciding to get ready for bed. He hasn't had dinner yet, but he's too drowsy to bother.

Tiredly, he stripped from his uniform and changed. He now donned more comfortable clothes.

As he was getting ready for bed, the sound of his phone going off caught his attention.

His phone was placed on the sofa, inside his jacket pocket. He reached for it and took it out and turned it on, watching as it flickered back on, light shinning from the screen.

A text message from an unknown number. It wasn't anyone in his contacts, the name simply read," Unknown". 

Curiously, he opened it and was met with a line of words filling his screen.

 **unknown** \- 8:35 PM

hello, is this shiro?

Raising his brows at the mention of his name, Shiro hadtily replied back.

 **shiro** \- 8:37 PM

Yes, it is. Who is this?

 **unknown** \- 8:39 PM

i'm lance's friend, keith. 

Memories of the café boy Lance had called out to. Jealousy has sprung up on Shiro once more as he bit his lips. He texted back.

* * *

 How did the situation lead to this?

He cursed everything in his life that aligned for the exact moment the universe decided to fuck him over like this.

Keith had Shiro's phone number and now Shiro and Keith were probably going to elope and run off to France or something, leaving Lance all alone. 

All because Lance had run his stupid mouth and told Keith his phone number. Maybe if he changed the topic, he wouldn't be in this predicament. Maybe if he wasn't being a complete dolt, so many maybe's.

And as if to make matter worse, he's _still_ helping Keith get into Shiro's pants. He hasn't learned his lesson, at all. 

"Don't change his name to 'cute barista' in my contact, _Lance_." 

"Whatever, send him a text already!"

 **keith** \- 8:35 PM

hello, is this shiro?

There's radio silence for a few moment and Keith was clearly getting agitated. Lance placed a comforting hand and guiltly prayed that Shiro didn't respond.

 **cute barista**  - 8:37 PM

Yes, it is. Who is this?

"Shit, he responded." Keith looked panicked. "What do I say?"

"Introduce yourself," Lance ushered. 

Keith looked at Lance hopelessly. "How?"

"Just say you're my friend, c'mon Keith. You haven't responded for two minutes."

 **keith** \- 8:39 PM

i'm lance's friend, keith. 

"Do you think he remembers me?" Keith said. He attempted a calm façade, but Lance noticed his shaking knucles and tried assuring Keith.

"Who'd forget a hot ass like yours?" He joked, attempting to ease the tension in the room.

It hit the mark and Keith's tense shoulders relax a slight bit.

 **cute barista** \- 8:40 PM

Oh, hello. Is there something you need?

"What do I say?"

"Oh for fuck's sakes, just ask him out!" Lance cried out, shaking Keith's body. 

"How? What do I say?"

"I don't know! Ask him for coffee or some shit." 

"But--"

"Ah, just hand over the phone," Lance chortled, snatching the phone away from Keith's grasp and typing something quickly into it.

 **keith** \- 8:45 PM

coffee on monday? 

Keith grabbed for his phone and read the text, his eyes widening after each word he read.

"Lance? What the fuck?"

"Shiro might like people that take initiative, who knows?"

There was a long pause and Keith was clearly distressed throughout the silence.

 **cute barista** \- 8:48 PM

Ok? 

"Score!" Lance thundered, trying to ignore the stinging pain in his chest.

His head whipped towards Keith, who seemed to be burning holes into his phone, face morphed into one of disbelief, but after a few seconds, into immense joy.

"Who's the best?" Lance teases, grabbing Keith's shoulder.

Keith shoots him a grateful look, mixed in with amused. "You are. Thanks Lance, you're probably the best wingman I've ever had."

Right. Lance was just the wingman.

He's joking, but holy shit, does that comment stings. This was a big prank on him by the universe, wasn't it? His crush of five years, so hopelessly in love with him, is probably going to have a boyfriend, all because of him and his stupid streak.

"I'm the only wingman you had, you mean. But I'll take the compliment," Lance laughed, punching Keith lightly on his arms. 


	3. Chapter 3

**unknown** \- 8:45 PM

coffee on monday?

Did he just ask him for _coffee_? As in a date?

Shiro paused for a long while, thoughts frantically racing around his head. He couldn't focus for quite some time, but when he did, he had only one thought.

_Shit, he knows._

Was this some sort of promises of battle for Lance's affections?

***

"Get your ass back here. You're going to wear that to your date?" Lance's disbeliving voice haults Keith from walking towards the door. 

Keith scrunches up his face is slight annoyance, tinted with a bit of worry. He looks down at his outfit. A cotton white T-shirt with a red-and-green flannel thrown over it and some jeans. They were worn twice already, but it's the only jeans he's got that isn't littered in holes. By Keith's standards, they looked just about acceptable.

"I think it looks fine."

At his words, he recieves an amused huff from Lance. "Keith, you could wear only a thong and think it's acceptable to go outside." Lance springs up from his seat on the couch and maneuvers through the furniture towards Keith.

Keith raises his brows when Lance stops in front of him and starts rolling his eyes. 

"Jesus, what an attrocity. We should burn it some day," Lance mumbles underneath his breath.

"Hey, it looks just fine. I don't need your input."

"Yes, you do need my input. First of all, you look like a fucking hobo," Lance pauses momentairly, grabbing at the sleeves of Keith's oversized flannel and tugging gently on it. "Flannel? Seriously?"

"What's wrong with flannels? They look nice," Keith argues, his face, once again, scrunching into a frown.

Lance slaps him lightly on the back. "You look like a hobo that's got a thing for lumberjacks. Okay, _Shiro_? Not a lumberjack. He's as jacked as one sure, but he'll go running the other way if he sees you in this outfit." 

Keith bites his lips, shifting nervously. "I'm sure he isn't going to judge how well this date will go because of my clothes. Besides, what I wear doesn,t matter."

"You sure about that, Mother Teresa? Shiro's a nice guy, but dressing up nice would definitely win you some brownie points. Besides? You're trying to seduce him, not be his cold shower." 

Sighing, Keith reluctantly stripped himself off his flannel, almost as a sign of surrender. "Fine. But you better not put me in your cheetah outfit from two years ago."

Lance gives him an indignant look, incredulous at Keith for having the audacity to bring it up. "That was when I was fourteen! Lady Gaga was my girl, just drop it, _all right_."

"Whatever you say."

"Thank you."

"But those cheetah spots-patterened tights that really brought out th--"

" _Keith_!"

* * *

Shiro sat down, attempting to repress his worry, in the café three blocks away from the café he worked at. This was the place that they had assigned to meet at.

Did Shiro feel bad that he was in another café and he was technically cheating his own café? 

No, because if Keith got angry and if there was a fight intiated by him, better another café than his own and getting fired. 

Time was going by slowly and it seemed to be an eternity of waiting. Shiro glanced at his watch every now and then and tried to collect himself. His name was Shiro Takashi and he wasn't going to ruin Lance's relationship. He'll just tell Keith that he didn't like Lance and move on.

It's a sarcifice he's willing to make, if only to keep the peace. He doesn't want Lance to bet mad at him for angering his boyfriend or anything and ruin the friendshil. He'll just deal.

And maybe possibly watch Lance from the corner of the eyes, but really, who's looking anyways? 

After what seemed like an hour, but actually tweleve minutes (Shiro timed it), Keith finally came bustling into the store.

He looked cheerful and in a good mood, which made no sense to Shiro. He was going to confront some guy that wanted to snatch away his boyfriend, it was rather strange seeing him smile.

When he appeared and Shiro got a good look at him. He was slightly surprised at his apperance. Keith was dressed in some fashionable clothes that made Shiro go, huh.

He looked like he belonged in a fashion catwalk. With a button-up shirt underneath a black vest with slacks.

One would only dress this nicely for a date. Keith's former clothes that he had seen when he first met Keith had been a bit of a ragged mess. Baggy T-shirt and some ripped jeans. Compared to that, he looked very different. Did he interrupt some date between Lance and Keith? If so, he was slightly guilty and he desperately tried to push down the happiness bubbling inside him. 

Keith smiles at him, surprisingly, and sits across him. "Hello."

Shiro cautiosly replied back. "Hello."

"Did you order yet?" Keith questioned, making some chit chat.

Shiro sighed and licked his lips in resignation. He knew that Keith was dragging this out before his final "back off from Lance" and protective speech. He wanted to get this meeting done and over with so he could cry in the corner of his room or whatever.

His mouth agreed. "Listen, I'll be frank with you. I know why you called out here," Shiro said, trying to be blunt as possible.

Keith's faced scrunched up in slight confusion at his words. Playing dumb, Shiro supposed. "You do?"

"Yes and I just want to say, I'm not in love with Lance and you don't have to worry about me." Shiro pushes back his chair and gets up. 

He gives a slight smile at Keith and tries to looking friendly, despite the burning feeling in his chest at his (fake) confession.

"It was nice meeting you, Keith. I hope we can still be friends after this misudnerstanding." Then Shiro promptly walks towards the exit and leaves, the bells attached to the door ringing behind him. 

Keith, left behind by Shiro, sat still in his chair, frozen in complete utter confusion.

He just sits there, trying to figure out this situation and make sense of what exactly had just happened. The date was going just fine for like two seconds.

_Was he just rejected?_


End file.
